XFiles: One More
by spookysister7
Summary: A killer is on the loose, will Mulder and Skinner survive his idea of fun? Not Slash
1. Chapter 1

Author's note - Die Hard SkinnerChick! I'm a big fan of 'What would happen if...', so here we go! (Keep reading, it gets better... or is that worse?)

Many movie references. Whoever gets the most wins a chocolate X-file character of their choice!

Chap 1

Ignoring the flash of forensic photos and the swarm of reporters surrounding the yellow crime tape, Assistant Director Skinner knelt to examine the prominently displayed body.

The dead man was in his thirties, Caucasian, and dressed in an expensive, if tattered, Armani suit. The obvious signs of wealth were almost overshadowed by the emaciated form of their owner, a five day growth of beard and the many noticeable bruises were proof of the ordeal the man had suffered before his death.

Rising to his feet, Skinner scanned the area for Mulder. Agent Scully had entrusted him with watching over Agent Mulder while she was assigned to Quantico, fearing Mulder would get too deep in the case he was working on. While professing to be annoyed by the inconvenience, Skinner was secretly pleased she would trust him with her partner's life.

When Skinner realized Mulder was nowhere in sight, he stepped over to the gaggle of VCS agents to question them.

"Where's Agent Mulder?" Skinner barked at the circle of agents whispering under their breath and gesturing at the nearby abandoned high school. One of the agents, tall, well built, and cocky, answered him, sneering slightly.

"Spo... Mulder decided to investigate the high school for evidence, even though there is no sign the UNSUB ever came near that building."

"Did he take backup?"

"Naw, he didn't ask, and we figured we've got enough to do without adding wild goose chases to the mix, Sir." He added as an afterthought, sneer fading as he felt the waves of barely contained fury radiate from the Assistant Director.

"Now, let me get this straight. You sent an agent into a potentially deadly situation without backup because it was a 'wild goose chase'? All I can say to this level of incompetence is that you better hope nothing happens to him, or it'll be more than your job that suffers!" With that, Skinner strode towards the school.


	2. Chapter 2

Chap 2

The last thing he remembered before the explosion was Mulder's eerily calm warning. A simple "he's here" and a startlingly blank look on Mulder's usually expressive face signaled the start of the inferno that flooded the room.

Choking in the thick smoke, Skinner overcame the searing pain radiating from the cooked skin of his back and called to Mulder.

"Agent Mulder? Are you okay? Agent Mulder!" He coughed once again and noticed the eerie silence after the loud explosion.

No coughs joined his. No answer from Mulder and no coughs. Skinner's heart leapt to his throat, remembering a firm hand shoving him away from the explosion.

He crawled under the smoke, using the residual fires to light his path as he searched for Mulder. Mulder had only been a few feet closer to the bomb, but that distance mattered. Where is he? He wondered. Why isn't he answering me?

Skinner stubbornly refused to believe that the agent was down permanently and crawled farther than he thought the explosion could have thrown Mulder. He found a mass of cement and structural supports. The ceiling had caved in, and sections of the cement floor had been dislodged. It had formed an odd teepee shape. Skinner was about to keep looking, when a scrap of material fluttered in the edge of his vision. A colorful piece of cloth stuck out from the pale cement teepee.

Skinner recognized it as one of Mulder's eccentric ties. Fighting against the thickening smoke and his own injuries, Skinner scrabbled hurriedly at the base of the fortress. Dislodging carefully balanced debris started an avalanche of small fragments and powder and made it even harder to breathe, but Skinner didn't slow.

As he worked, more of Agent Mulder's body came into view. No. He thought. Not body. He can't be dead. Not after all he's survived. Skinner brushed all the troubling thoughts from his mind and continued to dig. Finally, he had cleared enough to pull Mulder from the wreckage, just in time.

Immediately after he pulled Mulder's supporting presence from the fallout, the entire thing collapsed into itself, flatting out to a waffle-thin mass of crumbled building material.

Skinner didn't wait around to see it settle. Instead, he slung Mulder over his shoulder and stood. He couldn't see in the thick black smoke, and the flames were practically flowing towards them as Skinner felt his way to the exit.

Stumbling through the double doors, Skinner coughed until he felt his lungs would come join Mulder on the floor. Mulder. Oh, God. Skinner prayed. Please let him move, let him be alive. Skinner reached his raw finger's to his Agent's dusty throat and felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Grief washed over him in unending waves. Looking down at his agent's, his friend's, closed, still eyes, sorrow turned to anger.

"You're not going to give up on me. That's an order, Agent!" Skinner yelled at the unresponsive body. Plunging his hands down, he pressed on Mulder's chest. One, two, three. Getting into the rhythm, Skinner focused all his anger and grief into one thing. This man was going to live.

Repeating the CPR, only slightly hampered by the continual coughs, Skinner didn't notice a dark presence skulking through the shadowy edges of the hallway.

Between one compression and the next, Skinner heard a weak cough. The spell finally broken, Skinner looked up, elated at the sight of Mulder's bleary eyes.

He helped Mulder sit up and wiped away all traces of the emotions that had been surging through him. He was Mulder's superior, not some overemotional greenhorn. As Mulder coughed, clearing his abused lungs, Skinner scanned him for injuries. Aside from a slightly singed arm and back and a few scrapes, Mulder was remarkably unharmed. Mulder finally regained his breath and looked up at Skinner.

"Are you okay, Sir?" Mulder asked. Skinner scoffed at the question.

"I wasn't the one who required CPR, Agent. I'm fine, just a little burnt and bruised. It could have been much worse." Skinner looked away, towards the flickering light beneath the doors.

"Thank you." Skinner said. Mulder looked up in confusion.

"For what, Sir? I should be thanking you."

"You pushed me out of the way and probably saved my life." Mulder looked down, a little embarrassed.

"It was nothing, Sir. I didn't even have time to think..." Skinner cut him off. Enough chit-chat.

"What did you mean when you said he was here, and how did you know the UNSUB had set a bomb?"

"I had a feeling about the bomb. I smelled an odd almond scent, and I reacted before I consciously knew what it meant. As for the UNSUB, well, that's easy." Mulder opened his tightly clenched left hand. A crumpled and charred piece of paper fell to the floor.

"He left a note." Skinner retrieved the scrap of paper and tried to read the nearly unintelligible handwriting. After all the abuse he had suffered, his glasses were long gone. Turning his back on Mulder, he held it up to the light. He couldn't read it.

"What's it say?" He asked Mulder.

A strange voice answered.

"It says 'One More'."

Skinner pivoted and reached for his gun.


	3. Chapter 3

Chap 3

"Don't even think about it." The man said, holding the straining Mulder in a chokehold, Mulder's gun pressed to his head. Skinner let his hands drop in a non-threatening position.

"Let him go."

The man laughed and tightened his grip on Mulder's neck. Mulder struggled to breathe, his abused body demanding more oxygen than he had the ability to get. Skinner saw that he was about to pass out and feared the sudden move would startle the gunman into shooting.

"At least let him breathe! He's going to pass out, and then he'll be no use to you at all."

The gunman sneered but loosened his grasp. Mulder sucked in air as soon as he could. The UNSUB seemed to tire of the standoff and gestured towards Skinner's gun.

"What do you say to a trade? Your gun for him." The man pressed the gun into Mulder's temple, enforcing his suggestion.

Skinner didn't like the idea of being weaponless, but he liked this man's use of Mulder as a hostage even less. He nodded. Pulling his gun out slowly, he started to remove the cartridge, when Mulder gasped. The gunman had pressed the gun tight against Mulder's head, and the blood ran down his neck to stain the collar of his shredded dress shirt. Skinner froze and waited for the gunman to make the next move.

"Hand over the gun slowly, butt first."

Skinner obeyed. As soon as the man had a firm grasp on the gun, he threw Mulder into Skinner's arms. Mulder stumbled and nearly fell, but Skinner reacted in time and helped him to regain his equilibrium. Mulder faced the gunman, one hand on his left temple and the other on his bruised ribs, and was finally face to face with the man he had been profiling.

The UNSUB's tall, thin build belayed his wiry strength, and the long brown hair framing his delicate features seemed at odds with the heavy, dark metal of the handguns he held. The man appeared as acutely interested in studying them. His calculating gaze seemed to penetrate the steel walls around the FBI's most unwanted and laid bare the depths of Mulder's psyche. Mulder met the man's emerald eyes with his hazel ones, and, for a few seconds, they seemed to peer into the maelstrom of each other's thoughts. Skinner broke the unusually intense staring competition.

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" He asked authoritatively.

The UNSUB spared him but a glance, quickly dismissing him in a gesture that riled Skinner to nearly uncontrollable fury.

"Let us begin." The man said in a grandiose voice. In one quick movement he threw Mulder's gun towards the two men and shot off down the hallway.

Mulder reacted quickly and snatched up the gun. With scarcely a thought, he ran after the UNSUB.

"Mulder! He can't get out! Let's get some backup! Mulder!" Skinner yelled as he saw him skid around the corner.

"I'm getting too old for this." He muttered as he ran after them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chap 4

Skinner was only seconds behind Mulder when he heard a single shot ring out. He flattened against the wall and peeked around the corner. Behind a row of lockers was Agent Mulder. He had his hand pressed firmly over his right bicep, and there was no sign of his gun.

"Mulder!" Skinner whispered, trying to get his attention. Mulder glanced back at him. Skinner gestured towards his arm.

"Just a scrape. Dropped the gun," Mulder said, nodding his head towards a nearby water fountain, set low to the ground. Peeking out was the butt of his gun. Skinner nodded thoughtfully.

"Where's the shooter?"

"He's just around the corner, to the left."

Skinner was about to make a run for it, when the plaster above his head exploded into a million pieces. He jerked back to safety. Mulder used the split second that the shooter had focused on Skinner to slither to the water fountain and retrieve his gun. He shot twice in quick succession, more trying to scare the UNSUB back than trying to do any real damage.

The shooter returned fire, but hit only air. Suddenly there was a click and a muffled curse. The instantly recognizable sound of a gun hitting the floor was followed by running footsteps. Mulder and Skinner ran after him, Skinner retrieving his empty gun on the way.

The school seemed larger than possible as they went down several flights of stairs and through empty, harshly lit hallways. They noticed a gradual change as the institutional beige walls turned to a gray concrete color and the doorways to other rooms became less frequent.

They never seemed to gain any ground, and, if not for the occasional glimpse and the constant thunder of running footsteps, they could almost believe that they were chasing a ghost and not a suspect.

As they turned yet another corner, they hit a dead end. Stopping quickly, they looked around in confusion.

"Where'd he go?" Skinner asked.

"Here." The man said as he stepped out of a dark enclave they had passed in their mad dash around the corner. A rifle was in his hands. Bringing it to bear, he laughed.

Mulder and Skinner backed away, looking frantically for an escape. Moving slowly, Mulder set his gun down, making placating gestures.

"Put down the gun. We're unarmed and we can't give you any trouble. Just put it down." Mulder said in his best negotiator's voice. Both of the men raised their arms above their heads. The man ignored him, seeming lost in his own world.

"I only needed one." He said conversationally. Mulder glanced over at Skinner.

"Well, then let him go, and you will have one, okay?" Mulder asked calmly. Skinner glared at him, not liking his train of thought. The man didn't seem pleased either.

"Only needed one. Yes!" The UNSUB looked excited as he met Mulder's eyes.

"An adventure, that's what I need." Before the men could react, the UNSUB aimed his gun at Skinner and fired.

"No!" Mulder cried as he tried to catch Skinner's falling body. Skinner's dead weight dragged him to the ground, and Mulder could only cushion his fall. The UNSUB cocked his rifle and aimed it at Mulder. Mulder met his eyes, but didn't move.

"All I want is a little excitement." He whispered as he fired.

"And two would be an adventure." The two bodies didn't respond.


	5. Chapter 5

Chap 5

Mulder awoke, muscles aching from lying on the cold cement floor. As he stirred, he felt a vague sense that he needed to do something. What was it? He ruminated for a few seconds more, overcoming the dull feeling that sedatives always produced. Finally, he remembered. Skinner! He thought, leaping to his feet. Where is he? The small room that he was in couldn't hide a child, the florescent lights leaving almost no shadows on the whitewashed walls.

"Skinner!" He screamed, voice echoing in the small space. No one answered.

Mulder ran his hands along the walls, looking for some doorway, some egress. I had to get in here, so there must be a way out! As he finished his thought, his fingers found a small crack, almost invisible. He ran the tips of his fingers along the crack, tracing it. It ran about three feet wide and taller than he could reach. He pulled at it, but his fingers couldn't get enough leverage. Finally, he pushed.

The entire doorway turned on its spine, leaving a foot and a half clearance on both sides. Peering in, Mulder saw that it led to an identical room, except this one had a door. The solid wood looked strong enough to handle a tank and gave Mulder little hope. Half-heartedly he walked into the room.

Movement to his left surprised him, and he could do little but try and protect his aching head with his arms. He was thrown backwards and slammed into the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. He slid to the floor, head buzzing.

"Oh, crap! Jeez, Mulder, I didn't know it was you! Sorry." Skinner said apologetically as he helped Mulder stand. Mulder brushed him away.

"Nice way to thank a guy trying to come to your rescue." He said halfway smiling. Skinner shook his head apologetically. "So, you have the big room, huh? I think I'm jealous." Skinner rolled his eyes and gestured towards the door.

"It might as well be Fort Knox. I can't even make a dent, although it has made a couple of dents in me." He rubbed his shoulder painfully. Mulder shook his head.

"Maybe there's another way out. Did you check the walls?"

"No, I just woke up a few minutes ago, I focused on the door."

Mulder nodded and started to repeat his search. Skinner started on the left side, Mulder on the right. Skinner was only beginning when he felt a crack.

"I've got something!" Mulder joined him, and they pushed at the crack. The hidden door swung open. Mulder expected another small room, but instead saw a huge clearing and, beyond that, a forest.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." He murmured under his breath.

"I've been to Kansas. This isn't it." Skinner said dryly as he pushed past Mulder to go outside. Before he could step foot onto the inviting earth, Mulder grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Isn't this a little too easy?" Mulder asked.

"Mulder, you're being paranoid."

"You know what they say, Sir. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone isn't really out to get you. Just be careful." Skinner sighed but nodded.

Their first steps were uneventful, and the farther away from the nondescript cement building they went, the safer they felt. About ten meters away from the building, Skinner stopped abruptly.

Mulder was lagging behind, still a little suspicious, so he didn't see the look of horror that flitted over Skinner's face. What he did see, however, was the change in posture. Skinner had just gone from a wary FBI agent to a fully trained Marine. That alone sent a chill through Mulder's body.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Don't move. Stay right where you are." Mulder's first instinct was to ignore the order and go see what was wrong, but something in Skinner's voice persuaded him to listen.

"Okay. Now what?"

"Now, very carefully, look around you. Do you see any unusual protrusions or black objects on the ground?" Mulder looked all around but didn't see anything unusual. Confused, he stepped towards Skinner.

"I said freeze, Agent!" Skinner ordered loudly. Mulder stopped but crossed his arms and tried to be sensible.

"What, exactly, am I freezing for, and what 'black object' am I supposed to find?" He asked insolently.

Skinner muttered something, not looking up from his shoes.

"What?" Mulder asked impatiently, fed up with this game. Skinner threw him a hard edged glance of experience and regret.

"I said a land mine."

Mulder's face instantly lost all color.

"Tell me you're kidding." Skinner didn't move, staring at his shoes.

"What should I do?" Mulder asked, overwhelmed. Skinner drew himself up and locked eyes with his wayward agent.

"Keep your eyes on the ground. Look for loose soil, or anything that doesn't belong. Once you reach the woods, you should be okay." Mulder nodded, and then realized what he had said.

"Once I reach the woods? You mean we, don't you?" Skinner shook his head and looked away.

"It's too late. I'm standing right on top of one."

"Well, we can do something, right? I mean, there's got to be some way to disable it!"

"No. You can make it to the woods, if you watch your step."

"I'm not going to leave you here! Are you crazy?"

"Not crazy, just experienced. I know what land mines can do. Now, get moving. That's an order, Agent!" Skinner looked at him, steely eyed.

"With all due respect, Sir, I think you know what you can do with your orders. Now, let's take a look." Mulder worked his way to Skinner's side to get a closer look. Skinner glared down at him.

"If you don't leave immediately, I will suspend you!"

"It's kind of hard to suspend me when you're dead. Now shut up and help me, or we'll both end up hamburger meat. Besides, if I come home without you, how will it look on my resume? Loseing my boss to a land mine? Tut, tut, tut." Mulder joked as he examined the ground around Skinner's shoe.

Skinner was going to press the issue, but Mulder cut him off.

"So, how about one of those tricks you always see in the movies? Can we do an Indiana Jones and trade you for a bag of dirt?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's slide you off of this thing and replace you with something heavy."

"Brilliant, Sherlock. That's never been tried."

"You got a better idea?"

Skinner sighed and shook his head.

"What are you going to use?"

"Um… Here, this will work." Mulder said, grunting as he picked up a basketball sized stone.

"On three. One…" Mulder lowered the stone to the ground beside Skinner's right foot.

"Two…" Skinner prepared himself for a sprint, taking deep breaths.

"Three!" Skinner leapt, sailing a good eight feet before rolling across the ground, covering his head. Mulder shoved the stone over the trigger the instant Skinner vacated it. One quick push, then Mulder leapt away, flying through the air to land a few feet to Skinner's right.

A moment's silence was followed by a muffled thud, like a firecracker buried in earth. Dirt flew, raining down on the two huddled figures. The dirt shower slowed, and the men braved a quick glance towards each other, assessing the damage.

Slowly, they stood, brushing off dirt.

"Well, that went well. I think?"

"Mulder, I may have been infected by your paranoia. There's no way that should have worked." Skinner picked his way towards the crater left by the explosion. As he bent to examine the surrounding area, he noticed something.

"No metal shrapnel." He muttered.

"What's that mean?" Mulder asked, confused.

"It means that the mine probably wouldn't have killed me, anyway. Wounded me, certainly, but I would have survived."

"Why put in mines that don't kill?" Mulder asked rhetorically. An idea suddenly came to him.

"What was the last thing the UNSUB said? An adventure? That's what this is all about! The men we found, they had signs of exposure and non-lethal wounds, right? It's all a game!"

"And we're the toys, aren't we? Well, we're not going to end up the next victims with 'One More' scrawled on our chests in our own blood." Skinner said distastefully.

"Not if I have any say in it. Let's go. Wherever we are, there has to be a way out." Mulder said. Skinner nodded, and they carefully set off, eyes open for traps.


	6. Chapter 6

Chap 6

After an hour, they were deep into the forest. They had avoided several mines and stepped over a couple of tripwires, but they still had seen no way out and little sign of civilization.

"Mulder, you're the authority on this guy. How long will he let us wander around out here?"

"So far, all we've come across are traps meant to disable, not kill. I assume he lets his victims wander around for however long it takes to weaken them, and then he kills them. It's more of a mind game for him, the smartest survive the longest. Perhaps he was…"

A sudden, loud snap echoed though the forest, and Mulder's first thought was rifle. He spun, looking for the shooter, and saw, much to his amazement, the ground swallow Skinner whole.

Skinner didn't make a sound, crashing against the smooth walls of the man-made pit. With a crunch, Skinner hit bottom and didn't move.

"Skinner! Sir, are you okay? Skinner!" Mulder edged around the sides of the well hidden pit, trying to see though the darkness. All he could hear was debris still falling. He held his breath, waiting for an answer. Why isn't he answering me? It couldn't be that deep, could it? I know one thing that'll surely get his attention.

"Hey, Skinman! You okay down there?" Mulder listened silently for an answer. Finally, he heard a groan.

"Don't…" Skinner coughed. "Don't call me that. What happened?"

"Well, it seems that you fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book, literately. How you doing?" Mulder could hear some shuffling, then a loud gasp.

"I think I broke my wrist." Skinner said, painfully.

"Can you climb out?"

"No. The sides are smooth. I can't climb them."

"Alright. Wait right here. I'll be back."

"I'm not going anywhere." Skinner said, settling back to wait. A few minutes later, Mulder returned.

"Here! Grab this and I'll pull you out." A long, thin vine slithered down the side of the pit. It stopped mere feet from Skinner's reach. He strained, but he couldn't reach it.

"It's too short! Can you lower it anymore?"

"I can't! I've got it tied around the nearest tree that can support your weight, and that was the longest vine I could find. I don't know… Wait! I've got an idea!" Skinner heard shuffling, and then the vine lowered several feet.

"I don't know what you did, but it sure worked!" Skinner yelled as he grabbed hold with his good right hand. He began to climb, using his right hand only, but it was slow going.

"Hey, Mulder! Are you going to start pulling or not?" Skinner gasped, out of breath.

"Not. Just hurry up, will you?" Mulder said, sounding strained.

Skinner grumbled, but didn't complain. I'm probably too heavy for him to lift, even with the vine. Oh, well. It's just like boot camp. Skinner finally reached the edge and pulled himself over.

He lay gasping at the top before turning to look for Mulder. A few feet forwards and to the left, Mulder was curled up in a fetal position, the vine still tied around his waist. Skinner was confused and exhausted. What the heck is he doing?

"Mulder? Are you okay? What happened?" Mulder shifted slightly, and then curled up tighter, cradling his stomach.

"Mulder?" Skinner stumbled over to his side and turned him over.

"Sh…! What did you do?" Mulder rolled over on his side, facing Skinner.

"What I had to. It was the only way to get the vine down low enough to reach you."

"Yah, but how did you keep me from pulling you in also? I mean, the entire time I was climbing, you couldn't have braced yourself without some support."

"I grabbed onto the tree and hung on for dear life." Mulder said, trying to lay back. He hissed and rubbed a tentative finger along the oozing, cherry-colored rope burns that layered his abdomen.

"Was this really necessary?" Skinner said, emotions mixed.

"Well, it's too late to come up with better ideas. Besides, I couldn't let you beat my injury list. What would Scully think? Speaking of injuries, let me see your wrist."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure it isn't Scully that's rubbed off on you? Just let me look; I'm almost an expert." Mulder sat up painfully and examined Skinner's wrist.

After a few seconds of poking and prodding, Skinner almost snapped, but the strained look on Mulder's face and his stained undershirt quelled Skinner's ire.

"Looks like just a bad sprain. I'd recommend ice and rest, but it looks like both are in short supply." Mulder said, dropping Skinner's wrist and standing slowly.

"We better head out. Who knows how much farther we have to go, and, sorry, Sir, you're not my idea of a fun sleepover partner."

They set out, now testing the ground ahead of them with the long walking sticks they picked up. As they walked, Skinner muddled over Mulder's actions. He interrupted the companionable silence with an observation.

"You know, if I was alone out here, I'd already be caught. How do you think he'll react?"

"Another good reason to keep moving." Is all Mulder would say, pressing on though the undergrowth.

Skinner realized he was embarrassed by his heroics. Mulder? Humble? That's a thought. But the more Skinner contemplated it, the more he realized just how humble, and even shy, Mulder was. He's different than the mask he wears. Well, of course he is! I'm his boss, what do I expect? Mentally, Skinner vowed to get to know the true Mulder, but before he could make good on his vow, the forest ended.

A nine meter space of dieing grass and assorted weeds was all that lay between the edge of their shadowy land and a ten foot wire fence. Exuberant at finally finding the edge of their wilderness, the two men were still very careful in reaching the fence. Mulder was ready to climb over and be done with it, but Skinner held him back.

"Why does this look so easy? We can't be the first to get this far." Skinner said suspiciously. Mulder stepped back, considering it.

"There. That's why." Mulder said suddenly, pointing to a black blob hanging on one of the wires, about a foot above the ground.

"What is it?" Skinner asked.

"I'm pretty sure that used to be a squirrel. This fence is electrified, but I don't understand. Everything else is non-lethal. Why kill us now?"

"Maybe it can't. I don't see any deer skeletons, or even raccoons, and we've never found any electrocuted bodies. Maybe it's only strong enough to disable, not kill. At least, not kill us."

"Yah, but I bet the ASPCA would have a heyday with this guy."

"There has to be a way to get though this. Since everybody else was alone here, maybe if we work together we can escape." Skinner went left and Mulder went right. After several unproductive minutes, Skinner came across something that looked hopeful.

"Mulder! Take a look at this, and tell me what you think. Can we make it over?" Mulder jogged over and examined the broken tree that leaned against the fence.

"Perfect! This must have just happened. The wood's still green. It looks like it'll hold our weight." Mulder stretched his arms, but couldn't reach the tip of the branch.

"Dang it! It's just too high!" Mulder paced along the fence while Skinner sat, Indian style, waiting for an epiphany. As usual, inspiration struck. Mulder squatted down in front of the fence.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Climb on!" Skinner cocked his head, looking skeptical.

"That's your big idea? Using you as a ladder?"

"It'll work, won't it?"

"Look, Mulder, in case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty heavy, not to mention I've got this accursed wrist. Why don't I act as ladder?"

"It won't work that way. I've got this all figured out, just trust me, will you?"

"Alright." Skinner said, sighing. Somehow they maneuvered into place, and Skinner managed to pull himself onto the branch. He turned and looked down at Mulder.

"Now, how do I get you up here?"

"Simple, You can just…" Mulder was interrupted by a loud creak from the branch.

Skinner froze, then scrambled down the branch, one handed, trying to get off before it snapped. When Skinner was still a few feet off the ground, the branch split, bucking from his grasp. Skinner made a flying leap and rolled to a stop a meter outside the fence.

Lucky I didn't jump the other way, or I'd be fried. Skinner thought as he caught his breath.

"Hey, Sir, are you okay?" Mulder asked from the other side of the fence. Oh, shoot! Mulder. How's he going to get out now?

"I knew you should have gone first." Skinner said, standing.

"Why? So I could be the one to make like a monkey? Thanks, but no thanks."

"How are you going to get out now?" Skinner said, scanning the shattered remnants of the once strong tree branch.

"We'll figure something out. Maybe there's another branch we can use? Longer this time?"

"Maybe." Skinner said doubtfully. He looked around, noticing the lack of old growth and subsequent lack of long, strong branches.

"Mulder, I'm going to have to go look. Will you be okay by yourself? Are you sure he won't come for you?"

"I'll be fine. You go find a way out, or, if you can, some help. Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy." Mulder said with a cocky grin. Skinner nodded and set off.

As Skinner's shape faded into the bushes, Mulder's smile faded with him. Yah, I'll be fine. Just come back. Mulder thought, his insecurities raring. Of course he'll come back. What am I worrying about? This is Skinner, not some guy from the VCS. He'll come back for me. An insidious voice ate at the back of his mind. Why would anyone come back for Spooky?

"He'll come back. He will." Mulder whispered out loud, willing himself to believe.


	7. Chapter 7

Chap 7

Hours later, Skinner hadn't returned. Mulder's anxiety grew with every passing minute, dreading the fact that his fears might well be substantiated. As he paced along the fence like a caged tiger, he began to lose hope. He's not coming. Either he's hurt, or, more likely, he headed for the nearest town. And why not? I practically asked him to leave. Only Scully would have known not to leave me for this long. Scully. Where is she? I need her here! If anyone could use a touchstone…

Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder saw movement. Skinner? He thought, moving as close to the fence as he dared. He could barely make out a figure walking towards him, carrying something heavy looking. Skinner! Yes! He found something.

As Mulder watched the figure struggle towards him, his senses screamed. Something was wrong. The man's shoulders were too slim to be Skinner's, his coloring all off. He's got hair! That's definitely isn't Skinner, not unless he joined the Hair Club for Men and it really worked. The heavy object the man was carrying began to look suspiciously like a body. Oh, God. He's got Skinner! Please, don't let him be dead. Please. Mulder begged silently.

The man threw Skinner's limp body to the ground just outside the fence. Mulder peered over the slim man's shoulders to get a better look at Skinner. His back was to him, but he could see the restraints around his swollen wrist and his ankles. Good. Mulder thought, ironically relieved. You don't tie a dead man. The man strode up to the fence, sneering at Mulder.

"So, one of you managed to escape, though not unscathed. Unfortunately, he wasn't smart enough to run while he had the chance. I actually found him heading back towards here, and quite determinedly, too." The man scoffed, incredulous at the stupidity.

He was coming back for me! The thought was bittersweet, filled with relief and remorse. Yah, if he had just left me, he'd be safe now. Be careful what you wish for.

"He put up quite a fight. I'm almost sorry I had to sedate him. It was necessary, though. I had to show you that escape has its punishment." The man strolled to Skinner's body, tying his feet to a nearby sapling and checking the rope that bound his wrists behind his back. Once he was certain Skinner was secure, he started to dig in his backpack.

"What are you going to do? If anyone needs to be punished, it's me! He didn't want to escape, I made him! He was even headed back!" Mulder yelled, alarmed at the preparations.

"Don't worry; you'll get your turn. Now what can I use? I'm afraid you caught me woefully unprepared. Ah, this will do." The man said, pulling out a nearly empty bottle of imported rum.

"Kind of apropos, isn't it?" The man chuckled, humming a familiar tune as he put his right knee across Skinner's shoulders. He whacked the tree with the bottle, breaking the end into razor sharp edges and sending shards of glass flying.

The sound of the bottle shattering seemed to rouse Skinner from his stupor, and he began to stir, blinking his eyes to try to clear them of the haze that obscured his vision. His senses returned quickly at the sight of the UNSUB hovering above him.

"Get the hell off of me!" Skinner screamed, jerking away. He pulled at his restraints, without success. The man ignored him, pushing Skinner's torso into the dirt with his knee and unbuttoning Skinner's shirt.

"Let's get started, shall we?" The man said, lowering the bottle.

"No!" Mulder cried, standing by helplessly, only feet away. As the man began, Skinner screamed wordlessly.

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest! Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum..." The man sang over the screams, the broken bottle making jagged gashes in the shape of stickmen across Skinner's chest.

Mulder watched from the other side of the fence, fighting the impulse to tear through the wires and rip the man's head off. After a few minutes, Skinner's screams grew weaker as his voice began to give out.

Finishing the fifteenth man, the man paused in his work, blinking as if waking from a dream, his shirt and designer jeans scarlet from the blood. Without the energy to fight, Skinner could only whisper curses at the man who was causing him such pain. Mulder's throat was a mass of knots, struggling to keep from breaking down at the sight of such callous and indifferent torture. The UNSUB looked over his shoulder at Mulder and grinned.

"Let's go lower this time. Maybe then he can find his voice." The man said, sneering. Mulder flushed with anger.

"You touch him again and I'll kill you. I swear." Mulder growled.

The man ignored him, scooting down to get better access to Skinner's lower body. As he began to unbutton Skinner's slacks, Mulder lost control.

"I'll kill you!" He screamed as he leapt towards the UNSUB, fully expecting to pass through the electrified fence and strangle the man.

Mulder hit the fence, full force, and froze. Electricity flowed into his body like a thousand ants crawling through his bones, and, before he collapsed, he heard a polished voice whisper in his ear.

"If you won't be broken, I'll break you."


	8. Chapter 8

Chap 8

Skinner screamed and writhed in pain; his wordless cries turning into desperate gulps for air.

Mulder looked on in a pained stupor, barely aware of what he was seeing, the unreality of the situation allowing him to drift away into his most random thoughts.

Skinner is strong, he thought, stronger then I am. When the UNSUB had chosen Mulder for torture; it was only minutes into it before he was screaming Scully's name; Skinner or no Skinner. But Skinner hadn't called out a single name, hadn't pleaded, and hadn't even said a word except to curse his torturer. He's a lot stronger than I am. Mulder thought, watching his boss writhe silently beneath the torturer's expert hands.

He had long ago given up cursing and fighting against this man. Now when he came for him, he curled up in the back of his mind and screamed the only word that kept him from breaking. Scully. She'll find us, she always comes for me. But Skinner still fought, still cursed, pulling against the restraints, straining to wreak his revenge on the sadist that toyed with him.

The man finally left, once Skinner could no longer scream and hung lifelessly from his chains. Mulder knew it would not be long before he came back. It would be his turn then, but Skinner hung so silently that Mulder risked showing an awareness of his surroundings and a chance for an expedited torture session.

"Skinner. Hey, Skinner. Are you okay?" After a few seconds of silence, Skinner lifted his head to look at Mulder.

"Considering the circumstances, I'm just peachy." Mulder chuckled painfully at that.

Even in these surroundings, his curiosity was almost overwhelming. He risked asking a more personal question.

"Why do you still fight him? It only makes him stay longer."

Skinner closed his eyes.

"I know."

Mulder was not satisfied with the answer. He wanted to know why his boss was stronger than he was, more willing to fight back.

"But why?"

Skinner sighed. He looked up at Mulder.

"I won't stop fighting. When you stopped fighting, I was worried at first. I thought you had given up; had decided to leave me here, alone. Then, the next time he came, you screamed her name. I realized you had stopped fighting, but you hadn't given up." Skinner winced as he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position. He didn't meet Mulder's eyes.

"I can't do that. If I stop fighting... Well, I don't have a name to call." He looked up then, daring Mulder to make a joke, to put a finger in the open wound which was his soul.

Mulder's eyes showed nothing but realization and recognition. He, too, had not had a name to call, before Scully. He nodded.

Skinner slumped into his chains, relief in sharing his burden blended with regret, stomach churning at the weakness that he had shown to his agent. His turmoil was interrupted by a whisper so quiet, he almost didn't hear it.

"You can call mine." Mulder said. Skinner looked up into Mulder's deadly serious eyes, his thanks shining in his gaze as the room faded to black.


	9. Chapter 9

Chap 9

The nearly constant torture and lack of sustenance had worn down their reserves. Mulder's already thin frame has slimmed to the point of counting every bone, and Skinner's normally toned body was showing the signs of malnutrition.

The last time the man had come for Skinner, he had not received the usual fight. Skinner's stubborn silence was broken only by the occasional pained grunt, and, when the torture had become too hard to withstand, he looked toward Mulder and allowed himself to fall unconscious.

The UNSUB was not satisfied. After several hours of unheard of silence, Mulder grew increasingly anxious.

"He's never left us alone this long before." He observed.

"I never stopped fighting before." Skinner said logically. Mulder grinned painfully.

"Yah. He didn't look too happy, huh? We probably spoiled his fun." Before Skinner could respond, the man walked in.

In his perfectly tanned arms was a long, slim box. He set it down and stood in front of his captives. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open and stood in front of Skinner.

Skinner didn't move, schooling his chiseled face to impassivity.

Mulder, however, flinched at the sound of the blade opening. I don't like this. This isn't his M.O. He always kills with a sword, one killing stab and many non-lethal marks. He's never used a knife before, even with us. Of course, Mulder thought sardonically, he's never had two at a time, either. He's escalating.

The man looked over at Mulder.

"Ask me."

"Ask you what?" Mulder asked, curiously. "Cause I've got a lot of questions. One being, what exactly are you planning on doing with that knife?"

"Wrong question." The man grabbed Skinner's still swollen left hand. Skinner tried to pull it away from him, but, before he could, the man had already cut a long, deep line from his wrist to the inside of his elbow.

Skinner screamed at the sudden, blinding pain. His other wounds had been painful but relatively harmless. This one, though, was deadly if left untreated.

"No! What did you do that for? You'll kill him!" Mulder screamed.

Skinner panted and tried not to pass out. He couldn't take his eyes off of the river of scarlet blood pumping from his arm. Neither could Mulder.

"Ask me." The man repeated. Mulder glared at him.

"What? What do you want me to ask?"

"Wrong question." The man reached for Skinner's right hand. Skinner's eyes grew wide and pleading before he shut off all his emotions and stared blankly towards Mulder.

"No!" Mulder screamed.

The man stopped, hand on Skinner's wrist, knife raised. Mulder shuffled through his thoughts, trying to find the question to ask. Only one thing came to mind. It wasn't a question but a demand. It was also suicide.

"One more." Mulder said, voice cracking, knowing he signed his own death certificate with the words. The man cocked his head.

"I said one more!" Mulder shouted through damp eyes, weighing the chance of never seeing Scully again against the almost certain death of his boss. He had made the right decision, he finally decided. Even if Scully won't understand. He started to prepare for his death, saying his mental goodbyes and hoping that his sacrifice would save Skinner.

The man smiled and lowered his knife. Striding over to the long box, he didn't notice the quick exchange between the two men; Mulder's pleading look and Skinner's affirming nod. Skinner didn't agree with his decision but understood his motives. Mulder knew his boss would have done the same for him, and he only regretted not being able to tell Scully goodbye. His mouth twitched up in response to his thoughts. He didn't envy Skinner's job of telling Scully what had occurred.

The UNSUB pulled out two long, thin rapiers, finely crafted. Turning, he pulled out an old fashioned key and unlocked Mulder's chains. Mulder watched cautiously as the man slid the key back into his pocket.

Holding his emaciated body at the ready, Mulder was prepared for an attack.

Instead of the quick thrust from a sword, he got a sword itself. He looked at the UNSUB in confusion as he held the sword that had been tossed at him. What is this? He thought. Before he could ask out loud, the man pointed his sword at him.

"En guard!" He cried, flashing his sword. Mulder looked at him in utter bafflement as Skinner looked on through a haze of pain at the unusual scene.

The man attacked. Leaping forward, he slashed across Mulder's left cheek, leaving a perfectly straight line of blood. (No! Not his face!) Mulder jumped back, holding the sword up weakly.

The days of torture and malnutrition had caught up with him, and he was in no form to recall his fencing skills from college. He tried to remember some of his training, but all he could do against someone as experienced as this, and left handed, is go on the defense and try to stay as far away as possible.

Backing away, he kept his sword up and tried to keep from getting killed. The spreading scarlet stain beneath Skinner's increasingly pale body only fueled his desire to be done with this, once and for all.

Another lunge and a matching scratch appeared on his right cheek. Where the heck is Scully? Is all he could think as he glanced around, trying to avoid another cut.

As Skinner's stifled moan escaped his lips, Mulder saw an opening.

The man looked back in pleasure to see the suffering he caused, and Mulder went for an unorthodox and completely illegal fencing move. He tackled the UNSUB.

The men went down in a tangle of limbs, but Mulder had the element of surprise, as well as years of government training.

Mulder searched the man's unconscious body for the key. Running to Skinner's side, he unlocked the cuff that surrounded his injured limb.

"I'll have you out of here in just a second," Mulder said. He stretched towards the right cuff until Skinner screamed his name.

"Mulder, look out!" Neither of them had noticed the UNSUB rise from the floor until he had his sword in his hand. Mulder spun, just in time to avoid the sword piercing his back.

The man lunged forward again as Mulder backpedaled, desperately searching for an opening. The only weapon available was the switchblade he had confiscated from the man's pocket in his search for the key.

He flipped it open and darted forward, slicing the man's left hand and causing him to drop the sword. The man stood, panting, his sword at his feet.

"I have something I need to tell you," he said to Mulder.

Mulder rolled his eyes, never loosening his grip on the knife.

"What?"

"I'm not left handed!" The man shouted as he leapt for the sword.

Before Mulder could react, the sword plunged deep into his belly. He gasped in agony, dropping the switchblade.

The man released the sword as Mulder stumbled backwards and slumped heavily to the floor. Hovering over his prey, the man leaned down to hear Mulder's last words.

"I have... something I need... to tell... you." Mulder gasped out, holding his wound. The man sneered down at him.

"What?" he asked confidently.

"He's... not left handed... either." The man stood back, puzzled.

He never saw Skinner's right fist come flying towards him and didn't feel his body's unceremonial drop to the cement.


	10. Chapter 10

Chap 10

"No more." Skinner growled. He ripped off the man's shoelaces and bound him tightly before checking on Mulder. They wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Holding his bleeding arm, he kneeled over Mulder's shuddering body. He didn't dare touch the blade impaling Mulder's stomach, knowing that removing it would only speed the blood loss. Lightheaded, he felt as if he was watching Mulder's last moments on Earth.

Skinner lowered himself to sit next to Mulder, supporting him with his presence. Mulder didn't open his eyes, but the shivering calmed.

"Mulder." Skinner said gently. Mulder looked up.

"I never did say thank you." Skinner whispered softly. Mulder instantly knew that he was talking about more than these last few days.

"You… said enough, Sir." Mulder whispered as he faded away.

Skinner could only watch as his breaths grew shallower and less frequent.

"No, Mulder, there was one thing I never said. You're my friend, Fox, and you can call me Walter." Skinner laid his right hand on Mulder's cold, blood slicked fingers and squeezed.

The adrenaline that kept him going suddenly wore off, and he felt immensely old. I'm so tired, but I can't leave him. I'll just lie down for a second… Skinner curled up, left arm pressed to his side, right hand still wrapped around Mulder's fingers, as the blood loss caught up with him and took conscious thought away.

END


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